My Heart or Hers
by H.P.Witchcraft
Summary: After Cammie left in OGSY, what if while she was away things had gone differently?What if when she came back Bex and Zach seemed to be keeping something much worse than she imagined from her?What if she has no one to lean on until a very special Covert Operations teacher takes her under their wing and raises her back up? Or maybe she'll decide running is still her best bet. #1 done
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! If you read any of my other stories, you know I am horrible about making it to the end of something, and if I do, by then it has descended into chaos. I haven't written on here in a long time, mostly because I have a lot going on especially with working to acclimate now that I've actually been diagnosed for my depression and social anxiety and recommended a path of treatment and PT for my knee that I got surgery on a couple of months ago. I do however have this new story idea from while I was rereading the series for the millionth time and I thought I might as well type up and put out there what I have so far. So I hope I'll have time to get through this story and finish everything else that I've started, but if I don't I appreciate the people who still come back to my stories even though I have a horrible habit of not finishing. I also hope my grammar has improved along with my speedier typing. Anyway, thank you all for coming back to my story if you've read one of mine before and if not, thanks for joining me on another one of my mini-adventures. Thanks for reading and enjoy my story!**

**3rd Person Point of View; the day Cammie arrived back at Gallagher after her disappearance**

When Cammie touched down on Gallagher grounds, there were only a few onlookers from the windows. The girls who had been woken by the whipping of the chopper blades, round and round. In the very early hours of the morning on a school day.

After an uneventful debrief with nearly all of Gallagher Academy's very diverse faculty, very few questions had been answered, and to add to that, none of any consequence. The fact that Cammie Morgan had lost all memory of four months was both an everpresent and terrifying thought for the teachers.

She arrived at the infirmary about an hour later and was finally released four hours after that. Tired and hungry, the teenage spy hoped to make her way to the Great Hall and get some breakfast. The last thing she remembered eating was a couple of croissants on the chopper. When she was stopped at the door to the Great Hall by her mother, she obeyed her, waiting for her introduction, going against the loud and frustrated grumbles of her stomach.

By 8 am the Gallagher Girls and company who were held in the Great Hall and were already nearly late to their classes found out the reason, the headmistress had an important announcement to make.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Cammie could hear her mother through the door and imagined her smiling to the students, then to the faculty who sat nearby, "It has come to my attention that some long-awaited good news has yet to reach the ears of most of you."

At that point, Cammie could almost hear the not so quiet whispers of the seventh graders sitting near the doors. Confusion was washing over them because they all swore the headmistress looked to be on the verge of tears. But there was no way right? Not Headmistress Morgan!

"It is with great pleasure," she said, nearing her conclusion, "that I welcome back Cammie, my daughter."

It was awkwardly quiet, but not the quiet in the movies, where the pretty girl comes in and everyone is in disbelief that she's alive, it was the kind of quiet where the whispers didn't carry, and almost everyone was in complete and utter shock. Slowly, she opened the door and made her way to the front of the room and past the podium into her mother's slightly shaking arms, as though she feared Cammie would fade away as soon as she touched her.

She put on a nice smile, played her role perfectly, aside from her small and inconspicuous, to most, tugs at her long sleeves. It did nothing but to assure her that her arms were fully covered and any remnants of the summer she couldn't remember were hidden, from her sisters, but most importantly from herself, out of sight and out of mind.

When the headmistress finally dismissed the students there was only one senior who made an effort to escape. Bex barreled toward the doors and was gone in the blink of an eye. The worst part? Zach was right behind her, looking unsympathetic toward her. He didn't approach his girlfriend who thought of nothing but him and her friends until the moment she laid eyes on them in the hall. When she knew all of them were fine, unharmed, and most importantly together. It was only then that she could breathe easy.

Though she was engulfed in the bony arms of her other two roommates quickly as well as most of the rest of her class she still thought of the two who had left her.

Knowing something was wrong with her daughter, the headmistress tried to help restore some normalcy for her daughter. She gave her the day off with her two remaining roommates so they could catch up, so Cammie could plan how to make up her work, and so maybe she could try to pretend the summer had just ended and school was just beginning.

When her friends went for lunch she remained in their room, hoping Bex would come by. She didn't. And neither did Zach. She just sat by herself in a room that hadn't changed at all, aside from the new issues of the same old magazines, the additions to Liz's large textbook collection, and to Macey's beauty products.

When she went searching, later on, in the quiet lull after dinner when girls did their homework quietly or went for a quick practice in the P&E Barn, she tried finding the two people who refused to talk or even run into her. All she wanted was to embrace the two people she had yet to greet and go back to being normal school-going teenagers, or, she guessed, as normal as school-going spies in training could be.

As she rounded a corner she finally heard what she'd been looking for. Voices.

"I can't go to the room. She'll be there."

The voice was unmistakably Bex's, and her tone was distinctly new to her, full of malice and disdain.

"You're going to have to talk to her eventually."

Her boyfriend's voice rang out. _Zach. _She could feel her heart beating a bit harder at the thought of finally being this close to him. It was so nice. Hearing his voice. He was so close but so far at the same time. She was almost afraid to hear what he had to say about her very un-Chameleon like situation.

Through the cracked-open door, she could see them. Their backs were to her, sitting side by side on the front row of desks facing an empty board, legs pressed firmly together. Bex was in a sweaty gym uniform, and if her knuckles were any indication, she'd spent ample time hitting a punching bag or maybe people, both are allowed to some extent, so long as both parties are compliant and no one's dying. Zach was still in his uniform, hair perfectly messed, but all she could think about were his perfectly green eyes. That and the arm he had slung over her shoulders, holding her firmly against his broad chest.

"I can't do it," she sounded almost defeated.

He laughed, embracing her a little tighter, lifting her chin so their eyes would meet.

"I find that hard to believe," He smirked, the teasing one that secretly hid a great deal of love behind it, "I'm the guy who was with you and your parents all summer, remember? I was in Budapest. I saw you in action in Greece. So don't pull that on me. I know exactly what you're capable of."

She laughed, and so did he. Cammie, however, felt a rush of heat in her cheeks. So Bex wasn't mad at her. She was trying to hide this, and so was Zach. They spent the summer together. For all she knew they'd forgotten all about her. They'd relished the thought of being together without her, the threat of her coming back and finding them like this. Too bad for all of them she had returned to exactly this. The charade was up and all Cammie Morgan could do was let the sobs take over, though she didn't dare let herself be found. She let them wrack her body, but leave no louder than her slow and gasped breaths.

Their continued conversation did nothing to console her or make her believe otherwise of what had happened in her absence. With each passing moment, the truth sank deeper. The very people she'd given up damn near everything for had betrayed her.

Eventually, she heard Bex pause mid-sentence and say, "Do you hear that?"

Had they heard her? Would they even care? Why would they? They had each other now, didn't they?

As their nearly silent footsteps approached the door, she ducked around the nearest corner and into a secret passage.

"She was here." she heard Zach's panicked voice through the thin wall.

"No, she wasn't."

"Yes, she was, who else can just disappear like that in this school. It had to be her... And what if she saw us, Bex!"

"She was going to find out eventually, I'm glad it was sooner rather than later."

She reached up and planted a kiss against his slightly stubbly cheek and pulled him away by the hand toward the library.

All Cammie wanted to do was retreat into her dusty old passages and stop living such an awful nightmare. She almost started to believe it was a dream when she noticed the passageway before her was clean of cobwebs and dust and a strange door now blocked her way.

Upon opening it, she found none other than Joe Solomon, her father's best friend, sleeping. She kneeled next to his bed and took his hand. Was he still in a coma? His hands are warm. Thoughts of that like just flooded her mind and all she could say before falling asleep leaning against the bed frame was, "I finally made it home, Mr. Solomon."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**3rd Person Point of View**

"Joe?" She heard her Aunt's familiar voice call in the darkness as she began to wake.

"Wake up, Joe!" she could hear her aunt shaking the man's shoulder, but in a coma, that would do nothing to wake him.

"Cammie is here, Joe, but I bet you already knew that. Even in here you still know everything, well that and she's right here in the room."

She heard her aunt sign heavily, sounding somehow more defeated than Bex had the night prior. _Bex _she thought. Some best friend she turned out to be.

"Please wake up, Joe," she pleaded, "Matt's been gone for so long, and you just can't go too. Cam and Rachel need you, and I hate to admit it, but I need you too."

Cammie rolled over at the sound of her father's name, facing away from the new light coming over the horizon streaming through the window seat's glass and right into her eyes. She could see her aunt smiling at a squinting Mr. Solomon as he struggled with the new and suddenly bright light too.

"Joe?" Abby said suddenly weak at the knees, falling onto the mattress and grabbing his hand, "Come on, Joe, please! You can do it! Please!"

With her final plea, Mr. Solomon opened his eyes for the first time in months.

She laughed a tearful and relieved laugh.

"I guess you were just waiting for Cam to come to pay you a visit, huh?"

He groaned in reply but didn't move much. Abby, from her seat, pushed a small green button and within a few minutes, some of the medical staff, a few faculty members, and her mother gathered in Mr. Solomon's makeshift hospital room.

The Cameron sisters sat together with Cammie in the window seat. Doctor Fibbs and Professor Buckingham stood nearby against the wall, allowing all the room left for the medical professionals to do what was necessary. Tubes where disconnected. Less invasive machines were hooked up, and soon he was nearly sitting up. Mr. Solomon looked like he was going to be okay. He was going to be okay, she told herself, they all did, they needed him to be.

As people slowly cleared out, only the three girls remained with Mr. Solomon. Cammie stayed in her window seat looking down, she had been afraid the night before of what Zach would think of her running away. Now a much more pressing issue was going to be Mr. Solomon's thoughts. He was a top field operative and he had so much more to teach her, things she should have learned before she tried to do what she did, but she didn't think of herself as still learning. She was just afraid of how disappointed in her he was going to be.

Rachel and Abby sat closer to him. Both of them smiled madly, so grateful that in the last 72 hours, both Cammie and Joe had returned. It was all they could have hoped for unless they wanted to be greedy and hope for Matt too.

What was left of their small and broken family was together again, but not long after, it was time to part ways again. It was time for Rachel and Abby to go back to their jobs and for Cammie to get herself reassimilated to her classes.

Her first stops were full of homework and welcomes back, aside from two people who still had yet to even say hello. Finally, after being guided around by Liz and Macey, it was time for Cove Ops. Liz split off to go to the labs and a laughing Macey explained she'd caught up in the time Cammie was away.

When they reached sublevel three, Cammie's first instinct was to freeze. She knew it as the place where she'd arrived with Bex at the start of last semester, nearly a year ago, but in another haunting way, it was eerily familiar. It irked her to no end that she couldn't remember why she dreaded the looks of the place, but soon she felt a hand on her should and heard a voice that made her uneasiness make much more sense.

It was Zach speaking to her and this place looked just like the tombs. She was so caught up in her own fear she didn't even hear him, just stared dead ahead.

"Gallagher Girl?" his hand swept down in front of her face, "Earth to Cammie? Are you okay?"

"The tombs...'' she muttered, an anxious nearly trembling hand reached up to play with her short and choppy dark locks.

"I know, come on, let's get to class. Having everyone else around might put you at ease."

The hand on her back directed her forward and toward seemed like more of a cavern than a classroom.

"Oh, good, no lost stragglers." Abby smiled, "Let's get started for today."

"Um... Aunt Abby where should I sit?" Cammie asked quietly. All the seats were full. What should have been her seat, right next to Bex, was full. Zach sat there now, but like he'd taken her spot at the senior dining table. It wasn't like she could let him know how she was feeling though. What would she say? 'Hey Zach, you kinda stole my spot and my best friend and my comfort right out from under me and by the way I know that you and my best friend sort of got together while I was away. That's fine. I'm not offended at all that the two of you would betray me like that. So how're you doing?'

Yeah, there was no good way to work any of that into a normal conversation. She knew that if she even tried to talk about one thing there would be an argument, and said argument would dissolve into the chaos of all her grievances with her friends' current attitudes and actions.

"Right here, squirt," she said, pulling a stool out from behind her desk, "You and I can share materials for today."

She picked up one bucket off a tall stack from the floor beside her desk and spilled the heavy metal pieces across the open tabletop in front of Cammie. She looked to Zach.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked.

He nodded. Cammie could feel herself do the same but a lot less obvious and much more unsurely. Her mind knew exactly what lay before her, but her body didn't dare let the words pass her lips.

The tips of her teeth dug into her lip, and she fell into a daze. She knew not what her hands were doing, only that her Aunt was lecturing, asking questions and getting plenty of answers, just not the exact ones she was looking for.

Soon her daze was broken by the loud exclamation that just seemed to all of a sudden escape Tina Walters.

"Oh my god!" she yelled, "Cammie!"

The whole class seemed to shift their gazes at once, and soon gasps filled the air.

"Cammie!" her head whipped toward her aunt, she was confused, why was everyone looking at her? Why was she suddenly numb? Why did her arms suddenly feel so heavy?

"Cammie put down the rifle." her aunt instructed calmly and carefully.

It all suddenly clicked in her head. The dark metal on the table, the cold sensation in her hands, and the mindless daze. A rifle. The pieces were a rifle, disassembled. The cold sensation was the metal passing through her hands as she built it. The mindless daze was muscle memory taking over, her body building the weapon without the permission of her mind.

She looked at it in her hands and began to shake. Her breaths were heavy and uneven, but her hands were steady as they clicked around the weapon turning it back to useless metal, unable to harm anyone.

Before she knew it, Zach was in front of her, reaching for her hands, but suddenly it was pointed in front of her. A commotion by the door caught it's attention next and in the split second where he was not the target, Zach lunged for it. He ripped it from her grasp and she found a way to make her mind release the dangerous material.

It clattered to the ground, out of both of their hands. Now it was harmless. He lunged for Cammie next, but she was already on her feet moving as far from the situation as she could.

She backed away as he slowly approached until she could make her way out of the hole in the wall they called a door and then turned to sprint to the exit.

"Cammie!" he yelled, hot on her heels. He chased her until she disappeared, but he knew her tricks. In no time at all, he'd picked up her trail again in the passageways. he yelled for her and followed her until she found herself in a new room and froze.

"Cammie..." he huffed, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"Damn Gallagher Girl, at least I know you didn't lose your stamina."

Suddenly, it all came out at once, just like she feared. The sobs from the night prior returned, but they were wet and loud and miserable. He held her closer, listening to her heart beat wildly.

"I love you, Cammie, please just talk to me."

Those words only made her cry harder. Soon she got the sobs under enough control to spew the spiteful angry words she'd been holding in since she saw them leave.

"No, you don't. Stop lying to me. You don't know anything about me. What makes you think you do?"

"Gallagher Girl-"

"Don't call me that!"

"Cammie, I-"

"Go see your real Gallagher Girl. Don't you think Bex will be missing you by now?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the comments guys, and I hope you like how the story is going so far! Thanks for reading and enjoy the chapter! If you have questions or anything hit me up in the comments section or send me a PM! (they're still called that right? haha)**

**Chapter 3**

**Cammie's POV**

_"Go see your real Gallagher Girl. Don't you think Bex will be missing you by now?"_

"Cammie..." he was quiet. Quiet was bad, quiet meant I was right. Quiet meant all this was is pity, pity for the girl he cared about once a long time ago, but didn't care enough to know now.

"Just leave me alone, Zach." This time I was quiet. This time I wouldn't be hurt by anyone because I was plenty good at punishing myself. Our time together was a mistake, a lapse in my already failing judgment. I was nothing to him, so now I have nothing left to do but make him nothing to me.

"Cammie, what are you talking about? Why would Bex be looking for me?"

His lies were perfect, exactly as he was trained. There was no dilation of his pupils, I couldn't feel a shift in his heartbeat. He so easily could effortlessly lie to me. How do I know it wasn't all a lie?

"Cammie-"

"I told you to leave me alone, so do me a favor, Zach." I turned around and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him down just enough to level our eyes, "Leave me the hell alone."

I shoved past him, bumping his into one of the passageway's walls. I made my way as quickly as I could, as far as I could away from him, and when I wound up at my mother's office I knocked three times, quick and loud.

"Come in!" she called through the door.

I opened the door and took a seat on the beaten leather couch.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's not Sunday already is it?"

"No, mom, I just really need some time right now away for all of that." I motioned to the door and all that was contained beyond it.

"I understand, honey, you want to stay here a while? We can talk or you can just relax on the couch."

"That sounds nice." I smiled. Hiding from the rest of my sisterhood and my cheating boyfriend may not have been the best solution and it certainly wasn't permanent, but for the moment it made me feel better. I pulled my feet up onto the couch with me and rested my head next to me. I could hear the conversations that should have happened, smell my mother's nearly lethal cooking, and the warmth of every hug and laugh we should have shared.

It all lulled me into a quiet daze and I sat for minutes upon minutes just imagining different things. In one, Mr. Solomon was awake and with us. In another, Dad had never disappeared. The last scenario, though, was more of a nightmare. Zach was there and so was Bex. This time I didn't ever return, and they had all become family, leaning on each other.

I could hear my name, and at first, I thought it was the quiet voices in my mind, making up conversations for three people brought together by my disappearance. Then I realized it was just my mother's voice, calling me out of my daze back to reality.

"Cammie!" she said, shaking my shoulder, "Are you alright, honey?"

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm sorry, I'm just tired and it's so easy to just get lost in my head. There's so much to think about."

"Well don't think too hard!" she joked, "Don't want to make that concussion any worse. Are you hungry? Its nearly lunch."

"How long have I been here?"

"About an hour, just staring off into space and humming a pretty little tune."

"I was humming?"

"Yeah, it sounded a little bit like one of those ice cream truck themes."

"No that's just the-" I cut myself off. It was the circus. The music that had been torturing me since I woke up in the Alps. It was the music from the day Dad and I went to the circus. So what was that? A coping mechanism? Something to help me keep myself alive?

"What is it?!" At that point, I was yelling, both hands in my hair, and my mother crouched in front of me.

"Cammie?" she asked softly, "Cammie, sweetie? What's up? Are you remembering something? Are you okay? Do you want me to get the doctor?"

"No... No... I just, the music... Its the song that played the day Dad and I went to the circus. I was hoping it would be a clue, but it's just a stupid song."

She looked deep in thought for a second, but then her eyes lit up and she was dashing for the phone on her desk.

With a quick dial, an announcement was made over the PA. Abigail Cameron was reporting to the principal's office.

From her aunt's too cool for school look, she knew it was definitely not the first time, but her slight aggravation made it quite well know that she hoped it would be the last.

"What's up, Rachel?" she said after busting in the door.

All I could see was my mother's wicked smile as she said, "Do you still talk to that interrogator from Interpol who does the freaky mind tricks and memory walkthroughs."

"Yeah, why?"

"Give him a call, I think we just found a clue to what the circle was looking for. Something about the circus. It doesn't add up. I don't even remember Matt saying he was going to take her to the circus but they went, and we had cotton candy hidden all around the house for weeks, both of them had dyed blue mouths. If he can help Cammie walk through their day at the circus, we might find out what the Circle is looking for."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys! Thanks for the comments, I look forward to the feedback! Thanks for reading and enjoy this next chapter!**

**Chapter 4**

**Cammie's POV**

_"If he can help Cammie walk through their day at the circus, we might find out what the Circle is looking for."_

Andre Jacoby Dubois is unlike anyone I've ever met before. He has an incredibly restricting schedule, and he is booked four months in advance. We do not have the luxury of waiting that long, but we do have Aunt Abby.

After a single phone call from her, a spot was cleared for two hours on the coming Saturday. A second phone call, this time placed by my mother, got us a helicopter to DC on Friday afternoon where we'd then board a jet and arrive an hour early for our appointment. The same jet would bring us home immediately following.

The mission was so quickly put together, it felt like my head was going to spin as I tried to keep up.

As the time came for us to board the chopper on Friday, I noticed my mother was the only one without a backpack. Aunt Abby and I each had one, another sat at the feet of a frowning Agent Townsend, a fourth was strapped down in the chopper, I came to find out it belonged to the Gallagher Alumn who was copiloting, and the final pack was slung over Mr. Solomon's right shoulder.

"Are we going?" Mr. Solomon asked, and I could see a bit of a smile shine through. After so long he seemed very happy to escape both the campus and to go on a mission.

"Solomon." Agent Townsend frowned upon seeing him.

"Bastard." Mr. Solomon teased, though at first, it didn't sound like a joke. It wasn't until Agent Townsend replied that I smiled.

"Traitor."

Both men smiled, stifling small laughs. I'd never witnessed this side of Agent Townsend. When he wasn't being stuck up and all formal, I guess he could be... normal. I think I was always much too wary of him, because of the circumstance of his first arrival at Gallagher, and there was also the story Bex had recounted for us about her unusual experience with the operative.

After a much too quiet ride to the airport, and then the arguments of seating arrangements and security on the plane, I was laying against one of the jet's windows getting what little rest I could. After today, who knew what I would remember and who knew when I'd be able to sleep again.

When we arrived in Lyon, just after 8 am, we had an hour to make our way to Mr. Dubois' office in Interpol headquarters. We made a quick but reluctant, on Agent Townsend's part, pit stop at a cafe for 'un petit dejeuner,' we were back on the road.

Upon our arrival we were poked prodded and questioned until Mr. Dubois came barreling out of the elevator and right into Aunt Abby yelling, "Abby! Mes amies!"

"Hey Andre." she laughed, "Its so good to see you!"

"And you mon cherie! How are you?"

If Agent Townsend's face was any indication during the exchange, he was not happy. He either knew Mr. Dubois and didn't like him, or he was jealous. I think it was most likely the later.

After a quick hello, but no introductions, Mr. Dubois lead us to the elevator and we made our way down the halls and around corners into his office.

Right. Left. Left. Right. Right. The habit of knowing exactly what turns to take to get out was a little terrifying. I was in the headquarters of Interpol and somehow I still felt in danger.

"I apologize for the welcoming comity" Mr. Dubois had suddenly become very serious, "We had an... incident the other day."

"What kind? If you don't mind my asking." Agent Townsend's voice very clearly told me he did not like the sound of whatever this _incident_ was.

"Our biohazard detectors all over the building malfunctioned, along with nearly everything else in the building, right down to the toilets. We had to evacuate and we had two separate bomb-squads sweep the premises. I assure you all is well."

Now even Abby didn't seem so sure.

"Some of the other agents here were saying they were almost like a child's pranks, well until the biohazard detectors, that was terrifying. Someone actually tried to accuse a fellow agent's son, Nick. He likes to hang around in his mother's office because he doesn't speak great french and doesn't feel like learning. He figures his mother's colleagues speak English so he might as well stay here with us. Interesting kid, Amelia, his mother, had me talk to him a few times after he was accused of being a part of the Henley scheme. Though his mother is pretty sure he was trying to impress a girl. Poor kid."

"Okay..." Mr. Solomon said, "Let's talk about the current poor kid. She has nothing when it comes to the last four months. She remembers lea-"

"Do you mind if I talk to the young lady by myself for a few minutes. Sometimes the pressure of others counting on the information the witness may or may not have is multiplied by the presence of those with a stake in the game. I truly mean no offense, I just find that it usually works out better this way, so may I?"

"Yes" I replied before anyone else could say a single word of protest, "I agree with Mr. Dubois. Can we have the room?"

"Sure thing, squirt." Abby smiled a bit sympathetically, corralling the reluctant men out the door. "We'll be right here when you need us."

I could hear Abby ordering the two of them around, to stand guard in different places. One by the stairs, the other at the elevator bank, and she would stay at the door. I felt better knowing they were all nearby. Maybe this Mr. Dubois was right, because while being in a room with a stranger was a bit nerve wracking, especially knowing I was going to be spilling some of my guts to him, it was also nice to talk to someone who wasn't mad at me or looking for answers or worried that 'Cammie had lost her marbles' or that I would lose them the second I remembered something.

"Cameron?" Mr. Dubois asked waving a hand in front of my face, a warm smile on his own.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I spaced out."

"No worries at all, that's a lovely song you were singing."

"I was singing?"

"Yes, and from what Abby told me on the phone, its a song you heard at the circus with your father?"

"I think so, I was singing it without realizing when I spaced out in my mother's office at school, and she told me it sounded like ice cream truck music and it made me really think about the tune. That's when I realized what it was."

"Interesting." He nodded, picking up a notepad and pulling an expensive pen from his shirt pocket, "Do you mind if I take some notes, you can have then after, it will just help me formulate where I want to go next with this memory walk."

"Go ahead." I said.

"Thank you, now if I understand this correctly you are hoping maybe this trip to the circus and something that happened there was what your captors were searching for?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's try walking through that day. How did it start?"

"It was 9 in the morning, my dad was waking me up in our old house, from before my mom and I moved into the school. I was only in the sixth grade, I still had one more year before I could go to Gallagher. He wanted me to get ready because we had a long car ride, about six hours, out to the circus. Mom was gone, I think she was on a mission in Malaysia, maybe? I'm not sure."

Mr. Dubois scribbled down some notes and smiled another warm and welcoming smile, "Perfect, the detail is great, its helping me gain a good understanding of how the day played out, and what you were like at that time, which probably affected what you noticed and your decisions. Keep going."

What did happen next? I closed my eyes, thinking hard back to how exactly that day went. What did I wear, what did we do, where did we stop. And then I continued.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! I'm back with another chapter! Sorry for being so long, I got sick for a bit, but now all is well, so here's the new chapter. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy the chapter.**

_What did happen next? I closed my eyes, thinking hard back to how exactly that day went. What did I wear, what did we do, where did we stop. And then I continued._

**Chapter 5**

**Cammie POV**

"I wore my favorite, well stretched out jeans and an old Gallagher sweatshirt, another well loved item. My sneakers were brand new, bought just a day or two before. I had worn my old ones to the point there was a whole in the toe. The new ones had the worst color scheme, they were neon yellow, burgundy, and indigo. When my mother came home she swore I would never wear them in public ever again. I still have them today. They were one of the last things my dad every got me."

Mr. Dubois mumbled to himself. It sounded like he said, "Interesting."

"We left the house by 10 am at the latest. We stopped before we got on the highway for snacks and drinks, and twice more before we arrived in a rural town that I'm ashamed to say I cannot name."

"Don't worry about it, Cameron. You just tell me everything you do know, and together we will figure it out."

"Okay." It was comforting to have someone tell me it was okay to forget for once. I had spent so much time recently, since I'd woken up in the Abbey, ashamed of my mind and ineptitude.

I continued, "In all the time we were on the road, my father was out of my sight twice, for exactly 3 minutes and 29 seconds. The first time, he was in the bathroom and I was sitting in that car by the gas pump It lasted exactly 92 seconds. The second time, I was in the bathroom and my father was sitting on the trunk of the car watching the bathroom's one exit, unless you count the 14 by 14 inch windows that stood on two of the four walls, nearly 7 and a half feet in the air. He didn't look at all like he'd moved from the time I went in the bathroom, to the time I returned."

"What makes you think he didn't move?"

"He was sitting in the same position when I entered the restroom and when I returned."

"Could he not have simply gotten up and returned to the same position before you returned?"

"I don't think so. As I walked back to the passenger seat I could clearly see no over lap in the hand print he left on the back of the car. He'd been sitting with one arm behind him, holding him up right."

"Interesting, go on." Mr. Dubois said as he furiously scribbled down notes.

"We finally arrived to the circus at about four in the afternoon. The show started at four thirty. We got cotton candy and popcorn, and took a seat on the top row. I remember we sat all the way to the right. Now that I think about it, it gave my father a very good view of the entrance." I paused a minute and thought about what other things that should have told 12 year old me this was no ordinary visit to the circus, but didn't.

"We stayed in the same place, pointing and laughing and having fun for the whole two hour show. His favorite part was the riders. They did a bunch of cool tricks on horse-back. I admit it was incredible to see. He told me all about how much he loved it on the way home, but it felt rehearsed. I can still hear his voice in my head and his tone was almost alarming because it told me he hadn't watched at all."

"What gave away the fact he hadn't been paying attention?"

"He gets excited about his favorite part of everything, and always had this extreme livliness whenever he talked about it, but it was missing that time. I thought he was just tired because we had such a long day and another long drive home."

"Okay." Mr. Dubois wrote down some more notes.

"When we were getting up to leave at the end of the show, I was excited. Even though on the way there I'd been a grouch and even a few days prior had been the same way because I thought I was too old for the circus, I got excited. I'd seen an elephant plushie with the circus' name on it for sale, and I was trying to convince my dad to get it for me. I guess I was really distracting because he..."

"What happened next, Cam?" I could feel a warm hand on my shoulder, pushing me forward, prompting me to reveal a detail I had known all these years, but had neglected. I didn't want to think about the circus as one of my father's last operations, but there was no denying it now. My father himself was there telling me to talk.

I wanted the voice that was talking to me to be his, but as I shook myself from my daze, I remembered it was only the very young Mr. Dubois, who had probably never known my father, and was only at this moment, an interrogator about to get exactly what he was searching for.

"It was a dead drop."

"What was, Cameron?"

"I have to go." I stood quickly heading for the door. My mind swirled with memories of a woman, tall and pretty, a dropped napkin, and pocketed trash, trash that contained a list so volital it could bring about the wrath of death, the same wrath brought upon my missing father.

"Abby!" I yelled, "We need to go! I need to see my mom, right now!"

"What's wrong, squirt?" she asked, putting a hand firmly on my shoulder and looking in my eyes, "What did you remember?"

"I can't talk about it here. I need a safe room, I need...um... I need... my mom's office and my mom and you and Mr. Solomon and Zach and the girls. We need to talk."

"Do you know what the circle was looking for?"

"I know everything. It all makes sense. I know everything for the most part, and what I don't can easily be filled in by Mr. Solomon."

"What does Joe know about the Circle and this situation that you don't?"

"Not that, he knew about Dad's investigation and much more about how close he was than I do."

"Close to what, Ms. Morgan?" Mr. Solomon asked, appearing out of thin air.

"Close to taking down the circle."

"Taking down the circle? Are you sure, Cam?" Aunt Abby was looking at me weird, "Cammie, I need to know, are you certain this is about taking down the circle?"

"Yes." I was more sure about this than anything in the last week.

"Joe..." she looked at Mr. Solomon and she quickly got a misty look in her eyes.

"No, Abby, do not go there." Mr. Solomon put an arm around her quietly.

"Don't go where?" I demanded, "What aren't you telling me?"

"Rome, Cam."

"Abby, no."

She snapped at Mr. Solomon, "She has a right to know Joe." She turned a bit redder in the face and she somehow took the guilt she was feeling and made it look graceful, "Your father called me from Rome, Cammie."

"He didn't disappear for another six weeks, Abby!" Mr. Solomon tried to calm her down a bit, but somehow she only got more upset and more guilty looking."

"He asked me to meet him there, but I was late. He told me 'I found a way to take down the circle.' Those were his exact words." Suddenly her shoes became very interesting to her.

"So what are we waiting for?"

"What?" Mr. Solomon asked.

"I'm sure Interpol has a secure room where we can all talk freely and get a secure communication to my mother, but after that we need to go. To Rome."

"We can't, squirt, you've already missed enought school."

"This is about the school I've already missed!" I yelled, "If we want to figure out how my father had what he had and how getting it led the circle to him, we need to start there, in Rome. We can reasonably assume I spent time there after figuring out some of this myself, one way or another. Rome is the next step, so let's go. We can't keep it waiting any longer, can we Abby?"

"No, Squirt," I was worried for a second, that the three of them were going to drag me back to school, but the Aunt Abby looked at me with a watery smile, "You're right. We can't, can we."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everybody! I'm back with another chapter! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy. I might update again tomorrow too if I have time so be on the look out for that. **

_"No, Squirt," I was worried for a second, that the three of them were going to drag me back to school, but the Aunt Abby looked at me with a watery smile, "You're right. We can't, can we."_

**Chapter 6**

**Cammie's POV**

Although it took a while to set everything up, we did make it happen. Within an hour we were briefing my mother.

"When Dad and I went to the circus, it was not soley for fun, it was a dead drop. A woman gave him a list on a napkin. I recognize some of the names, but the rest I don't."

"Do you know why the list of those people was compiled?" my mother asked.

"Yes. The story about Gilly creating a list of Cavan's Inner Circle was not just a story. A copy of the original list was in circulation long ago, but Dad found someone, Lila Daniels, to get him a copy. Her car was found smashed at the bottom of a ravine, she still hasn't been found. That was a week before Dad went missing. He had to know he was next. I think the Circle interrogated Daniels and she gave up his name or his code name. With the number of moles they have, finding out who he was specifically would not have been such a big challenge."

"So you know the original list?"

"Yes."

"And how is that going to help us now?"

Mr. Solomon chimed in, "The circle is a family business. You don't marry in, its more of a birth right, unless you're recruited. Then its your children's right." this was a situation where he knew more than me.

"The descendants of these people, their heirs, are thee same people who run the circle now. Some of them hold global leadership positions. There's a woman who has a nearly identical name who works for the European Parliament, the possible Dubois heir. Another man, the Delahunt heir, I think, is an arms dealer. I also think we are very familiar with one of the heirs, and his next in line."

"Who?" Abby questioned, this was the first time I mentioned this specific heir to anyone. I wanted to remain in denial.

"Samuel P. Winters." I looked at my feet. I hated this.

"The former Presidential candidate?!" Abby seemed very alarmed to hear this.

"Yes, he is now an Ambassador. Specifically, the American Ambassador stationed in Rome."

"And here we go, Rome popping up again. Its not a coincidence." Agent Townsend said.

"There are no coincidences." Mr. Solomon and I both said. I looked at him and smiled. How could I forget him being in my life? I could have sworn I'd never met him when he showed up for my first day sophmore year.

"That's all the information I have for now, Mom. That is why I am asking for permission to go to Rome and further investigate the matter. If I really was there over the summer, maybe it will jar something loose."

"I don't know, kiddo, I think it might be better for you back here on campus where I can keep an eye on you. We have what the Circle wanted now, so there's no need to worry. We should try working with what we have first. When we've exhausted our information we can give Rome a try."

"And give the Circle time to prepare for my arrival so they can try to take me again? Showing up unexpected like that gives us a chance to roam more freely."

"I don't disagree, Cammie, but I'm just not sure."

"We'll take good care of her Rachel." Abby smiled.

"Don't worry about me, Mom. Could you give us... say 48 hours? Then we'll come straight home."

"You have 36 starting now. I'm looking at the three of you." My mother said pointing to my three chaperones, "By the time those 36 hours are up, she better be well on her way home."

"Yes ma'am" Mr. Solomon and Abby both fake saluted. Townsend just quietly agreed and we moved on.

"Bye, Mom. See you when I get home."

"I love you, Cam."

The chat ended, and I turned to Abby, "Where to next?"

We spend the next 3 hours making our way to the airport and getting to Rome. It was 8 o'clock their time, and I was already exhausted from jet lag and the day's general events.

We grabbed a quick bite for eating in our hotel room, and spent the rest of the night settling in as much as a spy dared. Our bags remained packed, our most secret materials were in a burn bag set to go off with the click of a button, and booby traps were set. That was supposed to be Townsend's job, but in the end Abby did it because Mr. high and mighty _"I am an agent of Her Majesty's Secret Service, I do not set booby traps." _Townsend was busy with the stick up his ass.

We all went to sleep by 9:30, except for Solomon, he was keeping the first watch. In three hours Townsend would take his place, and then in another three Abby would take her turn.

By 7 am we would be out of this room, an trace of us having been here will have vanished, and the four of us with our little backpacks stuffed full would be treking around the streets of Rome with the hope of connecting dots that have yet to exist and to maybe help me remember some of what happened to me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everybody! Thanks for reading and enjoy the story! Here's the next chapter!**

**Chapter 7**

**Cammie POV**

That night, I dreamed of the ancient stone buildings and streets I would get to witness for the first time tomorrow. Maybe it wasn't the first time though. Maybe I had visited my dream city before. The place where I always thought I'd attend a huge ball and have to work my way around a prince or a count, an arms dealer, and a rogue nuclear warhead.

My current situation had nothing to do with any of that. I was just a high school girl/ spy-in-training who was probably the worst Gallagher Girl in history. We'd always been taught to remember things and observe, but I have never felt like more of a failure in that department. Four months was gone, and I still had yet to find a way to retrieve them, even though my mother and Abby and so many like them told me may be this was better, but currently, not knowing is driving me insane, just as it had done to a number of others last summer.

In my dream, I wandered on foreign streets, but maybe they weren't so unfamiliar, because while my head had no idea where I was going, my feet knew the way down a well beaten sidewalk, wind rushing by every one in a while on my left.

I could hear someone calling me, feel a hand on my shoulder. Had someone been with me last summer? Was this a memory or a dream? Maybe Zach was right and somebody always knew.

_Cammie._

_Cammie._

_Cammie._

Each call was closer or maybe just louder. I felt myself shake as another rush of wind came by, and felt the rough wall on my right scrape my bare forearm. As my name was called again, I could hear urgency much more clearly in the voice and felt myelf being shaken even harder.

_Cammie!_

This time I knew the voice, Zach. I smiled. The goosebumps disappeared, and a warm feeling spread from my chest all through me. I felt like a silly lovesick high school girl again.

_Gallagher Girl!_

I felt a hand gripping each of my arms, throwing me into one of the rough stone walls. I gasped, my eyes shooting open, and found Zach, right there in front of me. The look in his eyes was sheerly panic and fear as he grabbed my chin and said, "Its about goddamn time you work up. You've been sleep walking for blocks and blocks."

"What?"

"We can talk about this later. Let's get you back to Abby and Joe."

"No, I'm not going anywhere with you right now. What are you doing here?"

"If this is still about Bex, this is really not the time, Gallagher Girl. We need to go."

"How did you know I was here, Zach. This was a very last minute trip, and you always seem to know so much more than me. Tell me why, right now."

"Now is not the time, let's go."

"Fine." I huffed giving in. He was right though. I was being childish, there would be a time and a place for this.

He towed me along roughly for the first block, but then I stopped, and yanked myself free.

"Cammie, come on we need to go."

"No, I have something I need to do. Subconscious me knew where I was going, but I was just a bit turned around. I was going there."

I pointed to a dark and narrow alley across the abandoned main road. I could hear a melody of numbers playing in the back of my mind as I wandered down the alley in a daze and found a key pad.

"Cammie, we should not be here."

I started to type the code in.

"I don't like this, Gallagher Girl."

With the final number, a door swung open and I was swung upside down.

"Zach put me down!" I demanded as he started running back down the alley.

"No." It was short and abrupt and stuborn.

We were almost back to the main street when a voice said, "Cammie? Is that you? What are you doing back in Rome?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello everyone! I have another chapter for you, and I hope you like it! Thanks for reading and enjoy the story.**

_We were almost back to the main street when a voice said, "Cammie? Is that you? What are you doing back in Rome?"_

**Chapter 8**

**Cammie's POV**

A slim and dark figure stood at the end of the alley. I recognized the voice, but before I could say anything Zach was dropping me on my feet and nearly throwing me behind him where he held me between his back another stone wall.

The dark can be a spy's best friend. When they need to blend, when they need to hide, when they need to be a chameleon. I've never had a problem disappearing, and I don't think Zach has ever had much trouble either. In the moment I hoped for his safety Preston would disappear. If Zach had heard everything I told my mother and he knew Preston's face he was doomed, and he was doomed just as much if Zach had no idea who he was. The only thing that could possibly save him was me and the fact that I know Preston, and the fact that he was someone who knew something.

"Zach!" I yelled shoving him, but he didn't budge. Fine. If that's how he wants to play it.

I took my thumb and shoved it as hard as I could between in Clavical and the base of his neck and watched his shoudler involuntarily collapse trying to get itself away from the pressure. I took the opprotunity to drop him with a swift kick in the back of the knees. Nothing he couldn't quickly recover from if I did need his help.

"Hi Preston. I think we need to talk." I said with a smile.

"Do you want to come inside? We can have some coffee or something."

"That sounds great, but I sleep walked away from my aunt and my hotel, and when she wakes up she'll have a heart attack."

"Oh, do you at least want a ride back? I'm sure we have someone who can drive you."

"Thanks for the offer, kid, but we're leaving." Zach said, getting back on his feet and yanking me behind him again. If he didn't know who Preston was before, he sure knew now.

"Zach!" I scolded, "Behave! He's being friendly. I met him a long time ago through Macey. His father is the ambassador, so even though we are turning down the ride, you should be nicer to him. And either way, why are you always so rude to strangers? I think Blackthorne needs a Madame Dabney more than anyone is willing to admit."

"Cammie." he was looking in my eyes. He caught my drift, be polite, and walk away. "Let's go, you know how Abby gets."

"Did you just say Abby? As in Abby Cameron? The woman who got shot for Macey?" He had a new look on his face, I couldn't quite tell what it was, "I need to go with you?"

"And why's that pipsqueak?" Zach asked getting in his face.

I put my hand on his shoulder again, this time it was a threat. He backed off.

"I need to thank her, she saved Macey's life. I don't think I could ever repay her for that. Like I can never repay you, Cammie, for saving my life in Boston."

"Maybe next time Preston, we're actually getting on a plane soon."

"Bummer, was Macey with you? I haven't heard from her since-"

"Freeze!" Agent Townsend yelled jumping into the alleyway in checkered pants and a black t-shirt. "Neither of you two move!" he motioned to Zach and Preston with his drawn gun.

"Cammie, come here right now!" Abby called from behind him. She looked just as disheveled as him.

Zach was trying to keep me out of the line of fire, behind him, and Preston decided to take cover in a nearby concrete alcove of a doorway. Nobody moved, nobody made a sound. I just stood there looking annoyed, until, that is, it dawned on me that the only people who knew each other here were Abby and Zach, and I don't think she could see his face in these dark early hours of the morning.

We stayed where we were, deadlocked, until a huffing Mr. Solomon rounded the corner, Bex and Macey were practically carrying him.

"Townsend," he huffed, "Gun... put it... down"

"Why should I?" he looked back and noticed the two girls, "What in the bloody hell are you two doing here?"

"We aren't the only ones who came when we heard about Rome." Bex said motioning to Zach, who stood up a bit taller, letting the sun hit his face and the realization sink in to the other adults.

Abby put a hand on Townsend's gun and said, "He's okay. He's with us."

"What about the other one?"

"Who ar-" Abby questioned, and Preston popped out from his hiding spot.

"Preston, is that you?" Macey asked, leaving Solomon with Bex and Abby and jogging towards him.

"Hey, Mace." he said breathlessly. He was probably holding his breath, waiting for the shots that thankfully never came.

"I think we need to go inside." he said motioning to the wall at the end of the alley way.

"Is this...?" Macey asked, and we all knew what she thought it was. The US Embassy.

"I really think we should go inside, Macey." he said grabbing her hand.

That was when I knew for sure that they had heard everything. Either Bex and Macey had found the passageway I used to spy on my mother, which always made me feel really guilty, I guess it's different when its not your own mother, or she had told them. Maybe Zach found the passage. Maybe they all had together. Maybe my traitors best friend and cheating boyfriend just stumbled upon it when they were making out... in _MY_ passageways.

The point is, I heard the truck before I could see it and I saw the glint of the needle in the sun before I saw Macey McHenry, the daughter of a well respected senator and a cosmetics heiress, jab a needle into the almost First Son's neck and inject him. Before his knees could even give out he was slung over Zach's shoulder like a sack of potatos, just as I had been only minutes before, and he was jogging to meet a van driven were jerkily by one of the tiniest and clumsiest Gallgher Girls I have ever know.

"Let's go!" Liz yelled with a well defined southern accent before jumping from the front seat with her laptop and throwing open the back doors before climbing in.

Abby, Townsend, and Mr. Solomon didn't question it, so neither did I. I think there was also the possibility of being charged with kidnapping if anyone ever knew what had happened in that alleyway. It didn't matter that Macey was a highly trained Gallagher Girl and the one who actually did the injecting, but the fact that a Secret Service agent, a MI6 agent, and a dead man watched and did nothing to stop it.

It was a bread truck, from who knows where, and sadly there was no bread in the back. Bex was driving, Townsend in the passenger seat, and the rest of were crowded into the back with a very... drunk? out-of-it? looking ambassador's son.

He giggled like a school girl and blushed just a bit when his eyes landed on Macey.

Liz was sitting on a crate attached to the floor with screws and had a makeshift seatbelt holding her in place while we tore down the cobblestone streets. Her laptop was open on her tiny legs and her soon-to-be-patented satelite connecting usb drive was plugged in. Where ever we were, for the most part, she would have access to the fastest internet anyone could get, its actually faster than the President's.

Her eyes flashed to all of us as she yelled to Macey and Zach, "He's transmitting."

"Tracking device?" I asked her, while Macey and Zach tore his clothes off, down to his underwear and tossed them out the back. Before she even nodded I knew.

"Well?" I turned back to Liz.

"He's still got a signal!"

"Preston?" Macey said kneeling next to him, "Preston!" she yelled slapping him lightly on the cheek.

"Hellooooooooo Beautiful lady!" he slurred, laughing, "Wow!" he seemed genuinely in awe, "Are you an angel? You have halo!"

He reached up next to her head for a halo that wasn't even there. So it was a sedative of some sort, maybe mixed with a mild paralytic?

"Preston! Have you taken any pills? Had a procedure done?"

"Of course not!" he insisted with as angry a look on his face as he could muster.

"Did he swallow something?" Abby asked.

"Maybe." Zach said.

"So what do we do if he did?" I asked even though I was very sure I did not want to know the answer.

"We cut if out!" Bex yelled, throwing a sheathed knife over the seat to Zach. She swerved and I could hear a lot of beeping and a loud crunch of glass.

"WATCH THE ROAD!" The whole truck seemed to scream at once.

"I can't watch!" Liz said putting her hands over her eyes.

Zach had the knife unsheathed and was looking to Abby and Solomon. I don't know if he was asking permission or where to start.

"WAIT!" Macey lunged for the knife, knocking it out of Zach's hand and away from Preston, "Let me check something first."

She stuck her hand in his mouth.

You heard me. Macey freaking McHenry put her hand in Preston Winters' mouth.

"Gross." she grimaced, pulling two invisiline molds from his teeth.

"Eww..." I felt myself wrinkle my nose, "How did you even think of that?"

"His teeth were more crooked last I saw him. I recommended him a dentist. I took a chance and sure enough..." She shrugged. In a stroke of pure luck, she may have just saved his life.

"Get rid of them already!" Liz yelled, and Macey threw them out the back of the van.

"Are we clear?" Zach asked.

Liz didn't respond.

"LIZZIE!" Bex yelled.

"We're clear!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone! I'm back with another chapter! I hope you've all been enjoying the recent chapters, I'm assuming you are because I'm still getting views but nobody is talking to me in the comments anymore! :( It was nice to hear from you guys, my stories don't usually get much feedback. And speaking of feedback, I'm looking for some on my original stories on Wattpad. The information for that is listed in my profile if anyone's interested. Thanks guys! Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 9**

**Cammie's POV**

_"We're clear!"_

Even under the assurances of Gallagher's best technology and communications girl that there was no way we were being tracked anymore, it didn't stop Bex from continuing to barrel down the narrow Italian streets in our _borrowed_ van.

We stayed in silence for a while, unless you count Preston's incessant babbling about Macey and practically everything. He spilled his guts, which was funny, but none of it told me anything about what he knew. For someone who was supposed to know things about my summer, that was odd because Liz's truth serum, have confirmed that was what Macey injected him with, makes you tell all your darkest secrets when asked or when something in your surroundings prompted it.

Maybe the problem was that everyone in the back of the van surrounding the barely conscious Ambassador's son was too busy catching their breath from the near miss with the invisiline to actually prompt him, with questions or otherwise.

It wasn't until we arrived to a chateaux in the Alps that anyone did any talking.

"Macey, are you sure that no one is here?" Abby asked her.

"Yes, no one comes up here except for my parents for the occasional Christmas time ski vacation, and they have the maids, butler, and chef come a week in advance to make the preparations for their arrival. We have about a two months before anyone is supposed to show up here."

"Supposed to is not a guarantee, Miss McHenry." Mr. Solomon said, but continued to trudge ahead to the door and let himself in anyway.

The chill inside and the undisturbed dusk was enough for us. No one would stay here is they had to, especially in such awful conditions, not to knock the awesomeness of a legitimate fortress that one of my very best friends had offered as a safe haven for me for the summer.

Oh, summer, now I almost wish I'd accepted. Almost.

Doing our best to leave the dust undisturbed, we made our way to the very heart of the chateaux. It was a large living room, but I'd think of it as more of a den. A real bear fur rug, head and all, was laid out in between a large, very inviting couch and a stone fireplace with a grand mantel, filled with pictures of the Senator with all sorts of important people. The walls were lined with ski equipment turned accessories, and Adirondack chairs make from even more old skis were out on the beautiful balcony down the hall, looking out at the mountains where the sun would rise. At the other end of the hall was the same set up, but it showed where the sun would set.

From what I saw it was a beautiful house. The old stone and wood walls felt almost like home, like Gallagher. It had the same feel as our fortress, but that was thousands upon thousands of miles away and did not, in fact, have such low standards for security. I guess seclusion like this in the mountains was uninviting to thieves or others who may want to break in.

"Can we get a fire going or something, it's colder than a blizzard on Christmas in here." Liz said sinking down into the cushy couch and bringing her laptop up on her legs. She did what she always did. She put herself to work, it made her feel useful, and that was her own special version of feeling secure.

I wanted to go and sit next to her, but I had a feeling the room across the hall were Preston was being tied to an old and cushion dinning chair where he was would spend the next twelve hours. He'd fallen asleep before we asked any questions. That was okay though, he would feel the after affects just like Townsend, and if needed we could threaten another dosage. Maybe he wouldn't even remember what we talked about yesterday, if he was as delirious as he seemed it was plausible. We could just tell him he told use everything, use that cliche route until we were sure he had nothing left to hide. Or maybe since we actually did have another dose, we could just give it to him when the last one has completely worn off.

I could hear Zach getting to work on Liz's fire, and Macey rifling around in some drawers across the room, returning with her favorite thing, the Senator's secret stash of Belgian and Swiss chocolate, which had been safely stored in the freezing temperature since the summer when Macey had spent some time here herself, hoping maybe I would reach out or try coming here looking for a safe haven, which I never did.

I walked into the hallway and saw Abby standing outside the door like she was on guard, so I stood next to her.

"Aunt Abby?"

"Yeah, squirt." she replied smiling a bit.

"Did you know they had left the school? That they were coming?"

"No, actually we had no idea you'd even left, either. I was chatting with Townsend, who claimed he could function on the amount of sleep he'd already gotten, after I'd gotten up for my turn at guard duty. He fell asleep not long after and I think I might have accidentally dosed off as well because next thing I knew, Joe and Townsend were waking me up and we took off running after you. Along the way, Joe fell behind, which I guess is where Bex and Macey caught up with him, and that was how we all came together. We all checked our phones recently and we have a lot of missed calls from your mom at the school. I guess she was trying to let us know they were gone."

"Guess so." I laughed a bit. The situation was entirely too laughable, but that was okay. We were all safe, Preston was in our custody, and we were on the verge of getting some answers.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter! Let me know what you think in the reviews, and if you really like my work check out my profile for my works here and else where. Thanks for reading and enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 10**

**Cammie's POV**

_"Guess so." I laughed a bit. The situation was entirely too laughable, but that was okay. We were all safe, Preston was in our custody, and we were on the verge of getting some answers._

"Hey, Gallagher Girl," Zach called from the doorway across the wide hall, "Can we talk? Please?"

I was hesitant at first. Did I want to go talk with my cheating boyfriend? Probably about said cheating? Said cheating that occured with my best friend? Scratch that, my traitorous best friend. No, not really, but this seemed like the place to do it, because we would be forced to really talk, or yell, yelling is definitely a possibility, it out without the advantage or running away into the passages like we had at home, so I agreed.

"Okay." Which when I think back to his questions was an odd way to respond, but I was too shaken at the moment to notice or care, and it was entirely too evident to my cheating boyfriend.

He pointed me to the porch to my right where the sun would set, and we went out onto the balcony and sat in the pair of adirondak chairs, old skis turned out not to be the most comfortable because the points faced out and dug just a bit to much into the backs of my legs. I didn't complain, didn't say much of anything at all. I just returned to the calmest look I could must to my face and kept my eyes looking forward to the nearly setting sun.

"Gallagher Girl, I-"

"My name is Cammie." I cut him off. It was similar to the tombs when I insisted he call me that. When I felt a sting of betrayal that paled in comparison to this one. When I found out that his mother want me, and she wanted me alive, which was one of the scariest thoughts of all. Was that still the case? Had something changed over the summer? Maybe they were trying to get rid of me in that ditch, ravine, whatever it was.

"Okay." He replied calmly. It was then that in my peripheral vision noticed him detract a had that was near to grasping my own. I tightened my hold on the chairs arms and listened to him.

"I know you're angry at me, but I don't think you understand what's happening was well as you think you do."

"Really?" That was how he was going to do this? "Zach, you and my best friend spent the summer together, and in the spy world, that's an eternity. Three months might not sound like much to you, and it doesn't feel like much to me, your amnesiac girlfriend, but it is. If you love her, Zach, then go. You two probably spent more time together in those three months than you and I ever did. We barely know each other."

"Gallagh-"

"My name is Cammie, Zach. We were thrust together in the midst of an insane situation. Do _not _feel like you have an obligation to me. If you love Bex, then go. She is my best friend in the entire world, and I don't know if I'm ever going to feel entirely out of love with you, and that's okay. I can still care about you and not be _with you _with you."

"Gallagh-"

"My name is Cammie!" I yelled, launching to my feet, and getting right in his face, "Say it!" I screamed, grabbing his shoulders, and hearing my voice echo on the surrounding mountains.

"SAY IT, ZACH!" I yelled, just a little louder.

"Say it." I whispered. I felt my hands shake and my eyes water and my breathing was labored and shallow. I don't know if it was the altitude or the look in his eyes, but I took as step back, and put my hands on the railing behind me, turning my back to him, and searching for something to distract me from this conversation in the snow far below.

I didn't want the tears to start falling like they did, but they did, big fat drops fell hundreds of feet on the snow so far below where I was standing. Had they frozen on the way down? Would they shatter on impact like my heart was right now?

"Cammie." he said quietly. He was standing next me. A respectful distance between us.

"Thank you." I replied in the same quiet voice, but my voice was much different than it had been less than a minute before, because an enormous lump was stuck, right there, making my voice come out strangled and ugly.

He put his hand over mine, and I turned to face him, but the respectful distance was gone, and his forehead was pressed firmly against my own. He reached up to wipe and tear from my cheek and leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him.

I put my hand between our lips before they could connect and felt mine begin to quiver, I'm sure he could feel it too.

"Its okay." I whispered into my knuckles, "Really. Its okay to go. Its okay to move on. Do not feel bound to me."

"Cammie, I-"

"Just go, okay? Really. I promise. Its fine." I put a hand on his cheek and ran it up into his hair one last time. I planted a quick kiss and gentle kiss on his cool cheek.

"Its okay to move on." The lump was gone and I had almost convinced myself the same way I was slowly convincing him, "Go."

When I released him, he scrunched his forehead and eyebrows up, and I just smiled, motioning to the door no more than five feet to my left. There was the door, gone was the boy, but before he could slip away just as the door was about to close, I called his name one last time.

"Zach?"

"Yeah." he came back. His face hadn't risen up in a smile like I expected, but I somehow knew that no matter how much my heart hurt in that very moment, this was the right decision.

"Thank you."

He smiled, just the tiniest bit, but so brightly, no cocky smirking, just a nice little smile, the last one reserved just for me, as he closed the door. I could hear and feel his footsteps as he jogged down the hall, to where, I didn't know, and I wasn't sure how much I cared, because the sunset was so beautiful, until was over, that is, and the dark set in, just like us and our 'relationship' if you could even call it that.

Abby called for me to come in as soon as the dark was fully set in, and I tried to oblige, but the stars were beautiful too, and I remembered there could be beauty in the dark too. The light wasn't the only thing was a well designated and deeply beloved beauty.

When I finally headed for the door, I was taking my second or third step, I'd stopped counting, stopped caring, when I felt my leg fly out from under me, and I fell, hard, right on my butt, with zero grace and I handled it at first, with dignity, but soon enough that facade was gone.

I could feel the cold through my pants and I don't know why but I just started laughing, hysterically, until that hysterical laugh turned into tears and sobs and broken half cries that I silenced as best as I could with my probably frost bitten and shaking hands.

Abby joined me on the balcony and despite the ice and snow, sat down right next to me, and put an arm around my shoulders. At some point, I fell asleep, and not much later, I felt strong arms carrying me inside and laying me down on a bed in another corner of the forgotten fortress. I felt Abby next to me, holding my hand with a sigh and could hear her later, assuring Mr. Solomon that killing his protege was not his best idea, despite the evenings events.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter! Let me know what you think in the reviews, and if you really like my work check out my profile for my works here and else where. Thanks for reading and enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 11**

**Cammie's POV**

_I felt Abby next to me, holding my hand with a sigh and could hear her later, assuring Mr. Solomon that killing his protege was not his best idea, despite the evenings events._

That night, I dreamed about them, Zach and Bex. About the fun they had that summer. About what possibly could have happened in Budapest and in Greece, and in a few locations they hadn't even mentioned, but where my mind had let them wander to. I watched the love story I knew nothing about, but had filled in in my head, and came to terms with it the best I could. I hoped the next morning I would feel better, that I would be ready to see them together, how they would have been all that time I wasn't around.

No matter how I tried to ready myself though, much to my dismay, I couldn't handle it. I did _not_ want to trapped in this fortress, or at Gallagher, or anywhere for that matter, especially if that included Zach and Bex. Overnight, I had turned into a full blown ex-girlfriend who would rather sprint through traffic to the other side of the street where I could continuing walking down the sidewalk without passing my ex-boyfriend and the new girlfriend.

I found our bags from the hotel in Rome in the living room, probably dropped off by the Gallagher Alum and her team who all sat somewhere outside watching over us after clearing any trace of us our hotel room.

I pulled out fresh clothes, a tooth brush, and a hair brush, and I made my way into the bathroom across the hall. With my breath fresher and my clothes cleaner, I tried to put my hair up in a ponytail, but it was too short.

In the mirror I could see what Summer Me had done to my long and light hair, one of the few distinctive things I could carry around with me, that made me look like my father and brought his visage to anyone who knew him. One of my outward features that made me _his _daughter. It was gone, and it would take so long for it to return.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to take it all back, starting with leaving. I wanted my school's walls. I wanted my mother's arms. My friends. My love. My life. My father. I wanted everything, but it was gone. Lost to the wind, just like me, as I made my way outside, small back pack in hand and a wad of cash from the Senator's hidden safe in my pocket.

If I wanted to try and get it all back, disappearing again felt like the best choice, even though it stole every thing in the first place. I wanted to run, because it was one of the very few mindful things I could do. Something that I had to work on day in and day out, put my entire brain into, something that didn't allow for outside worry.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Solomon asked, stopping me in the hall.

"Anywhere but here."

"Okay." he shook his head like he was considering something, "Let's go."

"What?"

"I'll let you go, Cammie, but I am not letting you disappear by yourself like Matt and like you've done before. I'm going with you, and even if I can't help you on the ground in battle, I can be your resources. I have safe houses and I know about a hundred of the Circles, and even more of their bases. I can run comms and give you pointers from a safe distance until I'm back to a 100% percent. Just do not block me out, kiddo. Please, let me be there for you like I should have been all these years."

I didn't answer him. I'd noticed the backpack at his feet, and the keys in his hand, so I turned back around and headed for the door and he followed suit. With the click of a button, a garage opened, and with another click the car doors unlocked. The small BMW was inconspicuous for Europe, and perfectly suited our present needs, so I took the passenger seat, and Mr. Solomon took the wheel.

I forgot about Preston and I tried to forget about Zach, so far, that wasn't going so well. Its okay though, I'll get there eventually.

"So where are we going, Cammie?"

"Where was my father coming from when he was heading to Greece?"

"Tel Aviv."

"How fast can we get there?"

"A day maybe. If you want to stay off your mother and the CIA's radar."

"Take us to Marseille, please."

"Why there?"

"Because Macey swears by a fantastic hair salon there and I need a change. So do you by the way. My father had a safe house there. He used to rave about a restaurant right on the water, but never mentioned the name because it was right across the street. Even if that apartment isn't still in his name, he had hiding places where he could keep things that most likely would not have been found. We can grab what he has store and take a boat. Simple, quick, under the radar."

"Vin et L'Etoiles"

"Wine and Stars?"

"The restaurant your father raved about."

We raced down the mountain before anyone else in the fortress woke, and I hid while Mr. Solomon made an excuse about why he was leaving for the team watching over us. I will admit, they probably knew I was there, there were not many places to hide, but they either didn't check, didn't care, or just let it slide. So off we went, no one being the wiser for a long, long time.

In the fight for my heart or hers, I lost, and that was okay, because I still had the chance to fight for their friendship and for their trust to return, and maybe that could be enough for me.

This is not the end of our journey. We still have so far to go, and so much to learn. This time, we can do it together. Double our chance of remembering, and double our chances of success. That sounds like a good plan to me.


	12. Chapter 12

** Hi everyone! I'm back with another chapter, it has been kind of a while. Thanks to everyone who read the last three chapters, I put them up in very quick succession, but whatever. Maybe I should have spread them out a bit... well, too late now :p. Anyway, anyone who's coming back, thanks for the continued support, and I hope you all enjoy the story! Also guys, majorly important! They speak a bit of French in this chapter, and I forgot how to get the special characters in here so roll with the fact that some of my french spelling is wrong, also I'm writing this entirely what I learned in my high school french classes so... don't expect much.  
**

**Chapter 12**

**Cammie's POV**

Just down the coast from the Catalan's Beach was the restaurant. It was small, mostly glass and black painted steel with fairy lights glittering all around.

"Vin et L'Etoiles..." I said as we were shown our seats, specially requested, not on the waterfront side of the restaurant, but the one facing the busy street, almost exactly across from my father's safe house.

Mr. Solomon and I arrived in Marseille two days ago, after spending two days traveling as far below the radar as we could. We'd taken the BMW for the first 100 or so miles before taking a taxi about 50 miles to an old safe house of the Circle's. A train running from Cali through Paris to Marseille runs past the property about twice a day, and we hopped it, jumping off again just before we arrived at the train station.

We found a cheap hostel and stayed the night which was perfect. We blended in perfectly, they have so many last-minute travelers coming through, living out of their bags that we would be immemorable, just two among the very many.

The next day, we had an argument.

"Ms. Morgan, if we go in that salon waving around Macey's name, we are just asking to get caught!"

"Yes, but we'll be out of here by tomorrow night. It'll be too late for them to catch us. They'll have no idea where we went next either."

"With the right kind of questions and prompting, somebody always knows something, Ms. Morgan, and I am not about to take that risk with-"

"With what? A schoolgirl? A spy still in training? I hate to break it to you, Mr. Solomon, but I'm less than a year away from graduation. I know what I'm doing!"

"But you don't know enough, you can never know enough, Ms. Morgan, even your father didn't know enough, that's why he's gone and the Circle lives!"

"Fine!" I gave in, falling onto my bunk with my arms crossed over my chest, "We'll do it your way."

"Good, we'll get a room for one more night in another hostel, and get ready there. We also need a grocery store and a drugstore."

"Why?"

"We're going to get buy some hair dye to throw off whoever comes looking and make our own dyes with some inconspicuous Ops on the Road, Ms. Morgan. This is why we didn't use notebooks because there are none here. The only weapon you'll always have is-"

"'Is your mind, learn to use it.' Yeah, yeah, I remember, let's do this."

By the end of that day, I was a blonde again with pink and purple streaks, and Mr. Solomon's hair was now accentuated with auburn, thanks to some lemon juice, the french equivalent of Kool-Aid, and some black tea because sometimes the best way to blend in, is to stand out. I found out that the dye thing was actually a prison trick, so thanks to all the inmates out there, I guess?

Also, as it turns out, someone really can look _that_ good after spending four months in a coma and waking up less than a fortnight ago. I guess Doctor Fibs' miracle 'no more atrophy machine' worked pretty well. Like Stark's hottie machine, but just a bit more realistic.

We sauntered up to the restaurant without checking what kind it was, the appropriate dress, or searching for really anything that could tell us how to blend in with their average clientele. Oh, the joys of working without access to the internet. When we arrived, it was way out of the league of yoga pants, jeans, and stained sweatshirts. While that was a pretty biggest hitch in the plan so far, Mr. Solomon came to the rescue with another lesson, this one not so unfamiliar.

"As spies, we use people, civilian or not. Here's your first test in the field, make that boy," he motioned to the young boy working the counter of the small clothing store, "like you enough that he'll let you borrow his cellphone, then call and make a reservation for tonight. You know the number, right?" I nodded, somewhat unsure but definitely not about the phone number

"Okay..." I replied. I tilted my head like I was cracking my neck, shook out a bit, and put on a brave face. It was time to use one of a Gallagher Girl's last resorts. While we are taught the arts of disguise and defense and deception, all of which I happened to accel at, we were never given the proper guidance on how exactly to... flirt.

I went to school with boys until the seventh grade when I started at Gallagher, but that was still early enough for everyone to believe in cooties and think loser was a huge insult. This is not my specialty. Macey tried to teach me once, she had me practice on Bex. It was hilarious because even talking to one of my best friends in the entire world, I had nothing suave about me. I fumbled over my words and totally over thought it.

Today, I was under pressure. This was the real world. I did not have room for error. Somehow, Macey's lesson's clicked just enough for me to turn into a younger version of my mother who once convinced a Saudi Prince to take her as his date into the Russian Embassy in Geneva for a mid-July soiree, just long enough to plug a thumb drive with a Trojan horse into a secretary's computer... allegedly.

"Bonjour(A formal hello)." I smiled batting my eyes just enough, and lean just the right way to show off the kind of figure I wish I had beneath my sweatshirt.

"Bonjour," he smiled in return, "Ca va (how are you)?"

"Ca va bien(I am well.)." My french was nearly perfect, from accent to pronunciation, "Et vous(and you?)?"

"Ca va tres bien. Comment puis-je vous aider?(I am very good. How can I help you?)"his smile was really nice, he seemed like a good guy, too bad, I almost felt a little bad about this.

"Je voudrais l'emprunter votre telephone portable? Le mein est mort, et j'ai besoin telephoner mes amies.(I would like to borrow your cellphone? Mine is dead, and I need to call my friends.)" I said with a frown and a head tilt, leaning a bit closer to him over the counter

"Oui,(yes)" he handed me his cellphone quickly, with no hesitation.

"Merci, Monsieur..."(thank you, mr...)

"Adrien, juste Adrien."(adriend just adrien)

"Bien, Adrien, juste Adrien,"(well adrien, just adrien) I leaned all the way over the counter, pushing myself up on the counter and putting my face just an inch or two from his, "Merci beaucoup." (thank you very much)I kissed him lightly on the cheek and let myself back down to make the call.

I could see in the mirrors that lined some of the walls he was bright red, with an elbow on the counter leaning over looking at me. I was probably the first customer ever to hit on him like that.

In just over a minute, I made the call in a hushed voice, and returned it to him.

"Quel est votre nom?"(what is your name?) he asked a bit dreamily. I could almost see the hearts in his eyes.

I bat my eyes a bit surprised, I hadn't come up with a cover name.

"Rachel!" Mr. Solomon called out in a french accent.

"Oh, Papa!" I said back, putting an arm around his waist and smiling up at him... this was so uncomfortable, but somehow so easy. It felt like the right thing to say and to do, because this had to be believable, but at the same time, I almost felt like I was betraying my own father. "Laisse -moi te presenter Adrien. Adrien, c'est ma pere."(Let me introduce Adrien. Adrien, this is my dad.)

"Bonjour, Monsieur.(hello sir)" he smiled as he helped Mr. Solomon with the small pile of clothes he was placing on the counter. There were two t-shirts for and a pair of jeans for each of us, two dresses for me, dress slacks and a matching shirt and tie for him, a short pair of heels for me, and dress shoes for him.

He talked with Adrien and I and played it off like he was a huge people person. He made jokes and smiled, and Adrien didn't even blink when he paid the entire bill in cash.

When we were finished we walked away with a quick wave goodbye, and I held the door open for Mr. Solomon, which gave me the perfect opportunity to call out to him one last time, sealing the deal on his obvious crush, "Oh, Adrien?" I called.

"Oui?" he replied with a hopeful smile.

"Merci de nouveau! En attendant de nous revoir."(thanks again. until we meet again) and then I strutted away, disappearing into the city streets, but not before blowing him a kiss, and leaving him with a great story to tell all his friends.

"Well done, Ms. Morgan, I think you outdid even Ms. McHenry with that one."

"Why thank you, sir?" I laughed and bowed dramatically like an actress after one of her finest performances.

We walked back to the hostel after that and got ready, and within an hour we were headed to the restaurant. We took our seats, and our plan was put into action. I 'accidentally' spilled a glass of wine all over my dress, and excused myself to the bathroom. I locked myself in the second to last stall, with a small open window over the toilet and I pulled a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from my bag and climbed out of the small window.

I had a comms unit in my ear, and as soon as I breached the building I called Mr. Solomon, "I'm in."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 13**

**Cammie's POV**

_I had a comms unit in my ear, and as soon as I breached the building I called Mr. Solomon, "I'm in."_

"What do you see, Ms. Morgan?"

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then when she opened them, she was standing in an apartment that was entirely untouched. There was no dust, no scuff marks on the floor, the door handles were shiny and new, and there were no signs of who lived there. It was absent of pictures, toys, even any signs of a wall being repainted.

"Nothing." I sighed.

"What?"

"It's empty, but in the sense that no one lives here and no one ever has. Its always been a safe house and nothing more. No personal markers and no sign of people. There aren't even clothes in the closet or shoes by the door, but there's no sign of dust, so someone comes by to clean it."

"Okay, does anything look out of the ordinary? Books, furniture, marks on the floor."

"There's nothing out of the ordinary with the furniture or the floor in the living room, but two of the encyclopedias are out of order."

"Which ones?" he asked, this meant something, it had to. I walked closer to the bookshelves scanning the numbers.

"The 2nd and 4th ones have been switched," I replied reaching up and pulling them both down. I opened their front covers and their innards had been cut out, leaving two large hiding places. One had American passports, 5 of them, two female and three male all missing pictures. The other had currency and a loaded six-shooter. After unloading the gun to put in my backpack with the passports and currency, I changed my mind. I reloaded the gun but left the first chamber empty for safety, holding it in my hand as I explored the rest of the apartment.

"Passports and cash," I told him.

"Try the bedroom." Mr. Solomon ordered.

As I crept into the room, I felt watched but yet again there was no sign of people. I checked the closet first and found a second stash, this time there were 3 passports, all-male, one from Canada, one from the UK, and the last from Italy. All of them bore my father's slightly smiling picture, but different names.

"I have passports, but they've already used, from the closet. I'm going to check the main bedroom."

"Look under the bed, it was your father's favorite hiding space."

I put the backpack down on the floor next to me, and crawled into the small space under the bed, feeling around in the dark. I didn't dare turn on a light, for fear that someone might see.

There was nothing on the floor but dust, whoever had been hired to clean the place obviously didn't take to kindly to getting under the furniture.

I sighed and just laid there for a moment, imagining my father doing the same and thinking about the last time I'd hidden under a bed. It was the day just over a year ago when I climbed under Abby's bed after snooping around with Bex. She'd mentioned my father's tendency to hide under the bed too.

I reached up, patting the metal bars that stood between myself and the mattress, but as I ran my hand up and down the bars I could feel the abnormalities. Two distinctly different lumps. I crawled out from under the bed, and pulled the small mattress off the metal frame, leaving a plastic-wrapped notebook and a flashlight.

I picked them up, storing them in my backpack, and was nearly out the door when bullets flew, in through the windows and I felt strong arms bring me to the ground with them, pulling my head into their chest.

I yelled a bit as I pushed myself away and took off, backpack in hand down the stairs outside the apartment, but stopped in the lobby. The shots came in through windows that faced the same way as the exit I was about to use. That was just asking to get shot, but those were just warnings for me and whoever was upstairs with me right? The Circle wants me alive, they need me alive.

I was desperate and unsure, and when I called for Mr. Solomon for advice, I only got static, and in that desperation, I charged out the door, only for another figure to tackle me right back in.

"Let me go!" I yelled punching and kicking at the figure on top of me.

"Ms. Morgan, calm down!"

"Mr. Solomon!" I quickly stood, pulling him up with me and heading back through the building searching for another way out.

"Cammie!" I heard a voice yelling to me in the dark. "Cammie! Where did you go?"

It sounded like Zach, but it wasn't. It couldn't be, because my cheating ex-boyfriend was at a fortress-like chateau in the Alps at current, or maybe he was on his way back to school. I couldn't way for sure, but I could say for certain that he was not there with me. Or so I thought.

We crashed through a set of doors, stumbling into a new hall. We found another door, but this door was wired with an alarm that would wake the whole building. I didn't care, we needed to get out.

I shoved the door, but it didn't budge. I heard the ghost of my past call my name again, and I only felt the desperation to escape this mess grow stronger.

Before I knew what I was doing, my fist was put through the door's window. I pushed my arm through, glass scratching up the sides of my arm, blood trickling down it as I reached as far down as I could and turned the door handle from the outside. The door seemed to come closer, but I still couldn't escape. I threw my shoulder against the door and it finally started to budge when I heard yelling and a shot being fired from the revolver that at some point had made its way into Mr. Solomon's hands.

I put an arm around my head, protecting it the best I could and with a final push from both myself and Mr. Solomon, we made it out into the alleyway and ran.

I don't know how long we ran, but I know we made circles, doubled back, and used every maneuver I knew to lose a tail. I tried to trust myself, but after the incident with the Blackthorne Boys Sophomore year, I still don't know if I will ever entirely trust it again.

We made it back to the hostel at dawn. My arm was wrapped in the wine-stained dress and after a quick run of hot soapy water over my arm, it was clean, or clean enough to bandage up and hide with a sweatshirt.

We bought another night at the hostel, but we would not be returning that night. We had a boat to catch, one that does not usually take passengers, but for the right price will ship almost anything, including people.

We would meet up with the captain tonight, and by noon four days from now, we'd be in port in Tel Aviv. We would be there much more quickly if we took any other mode of transportation, but this one and all its stops gave us options for running and made a lot more dead leads for our pursuers to try and follow. We'd stop in Tunis in Tunisia, Tripoli and Benghazi in Libya, Alexandria in Egypt, and finally in Tel Aviv.

We spent the day preparing, taking turns sleeping for the better part of the day before we packed up and headed out, making sure to leave nothing behind to identify us. Not a strand of hair and not a fingerprint either.

On our way to the ship that afternoon we picked up a few groceries, just enough to last us four days and three two-gallon jugs of water. Since this was so last minute, the captain was charging us extra and we had to bring our own food and drink, which was okay, we just had to lug around more equipment than I would have liked.

We arrived to the ship at about 9:00 that night, and by 10:00 the ship was setting off for Tunis. We would arrive tomorrow night, stay in port for a few hours while crates were unloaded, and whether or not we returned by the time the captain decided to set off, was a good reason for us to try and avoid leaving the ship.

He never asked for IDs, he never once questioned what a couple of Americans, especially one as young as me, was crossing illegally from France to Israel. He didn't seem to care so long as he got paid, which was okay, except for the fact that it left the possibility of him getting bribed into leaving us somewhere or giving up where we went, so we couldn't leave a clue. We had to be extra careful and make it seem as though we'd never really been there in the first place.

It was time to be a real Chameleon but at the same time a ghost. I could handle that... I think. I mean, its in my blood right? (But only metaphorically, Liz never could prove it was literally in my genes.)

That didn't matter anymore though, none of them did, because it was time to go, and with another notebook filling me to the brim with hope for the possibilities of new information, I didn't have room for anything else in my brain. You know, besides that tiny part at the back of my mind telling me that maybe our run-ins with 'Zach?' were not over.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi everyone! Thanks for all the views! We've already hit seventeen hundred views this month alone! So anyway, thank you all for reading and enjoy the story! Also, let me know in the comments if you want me to reupload chapter 12 with translations from the french. **

**Chapter 14**

**Cammie's POV**

_That didn't matter anymore though, none of them did, because it was time to go, and with another notebook filling me to the brim with hope for the possibilities of new information, I didn't have room for anything else in my brain. You know, besides that tiny part at the back of my mind telling me that maybe our run-ins with 'Zach?' were not over._

We were in our bunk room for the whole trip to Tunis. It was a perfectly simple layout, a bit like bunks in a navy ship. A short hallway, about 3 feet long, looked like a dead-end to anyone just walking by, but to anyone who knew better, the outline of the small door in the shadows was obvious. The door's hinges were on the right side to anyone walking in, and that made only the bunks on the left side of the room visible to anyone who entered. The hope was if anyone entered the room they would see the empty bunks on the left and assume no one was there, but if that didn't happen as we hoped, at least we would have more time to prepare our defense. A few seconds can make all the difference in a fight.

We kept our belongings at the head of the bunks, flipping around so our heads were at the foot of the bunks. This way, our heads were the last thing anyone coming into the room would see, giving us more time to protect them.

We each had just enough water to be hydrated and ate just enough food to keep our stomachs from grumbling. We figured getting off the boat would be dangerous, but sitting still while the boat was unloading seemed like a worse idea. The best way to stay ahead of the Circle, and ahead of my mother, was to keep moving, so we left the ship as soon as we docked. The captain showed us what would be unloaded from the ship and what in turn would be loaded in its place. It was enough to give us at least 90 minutes onshore, so we left for a walk and some quick training.

"Ms. Morgan," Mr. Solomon said to me through the comms unit, "we will be working on your skills at losing a tail. I've seen from your prior attempts that you are hesitant. There is no room for hesitation in this world, do not doubt yourself. Today, you will spot and lose a tail with my help. Tomorrow morning, in Tripoli, you will spot and lose a tail with as little help from me as possible. Tomorrow night, in Benghazi, you will spot and lose a tail without any assistance from me. Make the most of my assistance while you still have it, but still do the best you can without my help."

"Understood, Mr.-"

"A final thing, Chameleon," Mr. Solomon said from across the square. I looked over at him, catching his eyes over the newspaper on his lap for just a split second, "From now on we are in the field. This is not like an exercise in class. It is much more serious. While we do exercises like these, its Wise Guy."

"Yes, sir." I nodded. I wasn't looking at him, but I knew he saw me, whether he was directly looking at me, or watching my reflection. He was among one of the very few people who always saw me.

"Firstly, cover your hair. Do you see another woman with uncovered hair?"

"No, working on."

I could see a booth selling textiles, and as I walked by, I bumped into someone standing right next to the table. I muttered an apology and made off with a blue and beige scarf. My hair was covered, but that wasn't the only thing I could do to change my appearance for the sake of this exercise.

I walked in and out of stores and restaurants, in the front out the back and vice versa, and along the way, I 'borrowed' colorful wraps and skirts. After about 30 minutes, I saw two people three separate times.

"The man in the black shirt and white parachutesque pants and the woman in the baby pink hijab and black dress."

"Very good, Chameleon. Time to walk through getting rid of them. It is one thing to know they are there, it is another to get away."

"Can I try first, and if I don't succeed, you can tell me how best to proceed."

"Yes, they will realize you have made them, Chameleon, and they will try to stay on you. If you do not get rid of them the first time, then in a real-life situation, it is likely you'd be captured or worse. I'll end up walking you through a narrow escape if you don't get rid of them yourself. It will be good practice, so give it a shot."

"Roger, Wise Guy." I smiled and took off a bit faster down the street. If there was one thing I knew about being tailed, it was that the more desperate your tail is, the easier it is to get rid of them because they panic just enough to getaway.

I ducked down a back alley and felt Mr. Solomon's eyes that had burned into me for the majority of the past hour disappear. I was on my own now.

I dodged people and as soon as I could no longer see my tails I started to run. I lost my headscarf and skirt, then wrapped the scarf around my head in the best impression of a headscarf as I could manage. I pushed past a few more people, then fell into step in the direction I came with a group of children just a bit younger than me who were running back out into the plaza with a soccer ball. I was almost safe, but then I caught sight of the woman behind me.

I ducked down a new alley and started to run, hearing her footfalls behind me. I had her. She was panicking, that is until the man appeared at the other end of the alley blocking my way.

_Okay, think Cammie! _I yelled at myself, but then I found the solution. There were two doors directly across the alley from each other, both within my reach. If I could slip out of sight for just a moment I could disappear behind one door but leave them both swinging.

A cart was about to block the man ahead of me from entering this far down the alley, but he was running to get past it, he would be too late, and the woman was about to be blocked by a group of teenage boys who were snickering and running, past her and blocking her sight.

I pulled my best trick yet, and they each ran through a door in pursuit of me, but I was already gone. I had a new headscarf, green this time and an orange overcoat. I was a brand new person now, and totally out of their sight.

"Well done, Chameleon," Mr. Solomon said, but then he said the same thing he had when I first met Zach, "Just not good enough."

I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, holding my arms against my side. The smile on my face was long gone and I felt my blood run cold.

"We need to move, Gallagher Girl."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi everyone! I'm sorry that this chapter is so short, I have to spend some time in the emergency room tonight and I just wanted to get this out there before I go so I don't forget. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy the story! **

**Chapter 15**

**Cammie POV**

_"We need to move, Gallagher Girl."_

But I couldn't move. His voice was like restraints, and his grasp on me was a drug. I wanted everything to stop, from this exercise to time. I wanted to relish being in his arms one last time.

I knew this intoxicating moment would end far too soon for my liking. I did not, however, know who would disengage our contact. Would it be me? Would it be him? Mr. Solomon? A third party? All I knew was I would rather it never ended because even though he chose Bex, the feelings never stopped.

Why was he here? Had he really been in Marseille? Was he following us? Why reveal himself now?

"Zach?" I asked, I knew the answer, but I still asked and I still struggled. "Let me go! I need to go!"

"Cammie," He whispered quietly against my ear, "Please listen to me, we need to get you back to the boat. Joe is waiting."

"How do you know about the boat, Zach?"

"Spy." This time it wasn't a joke or him teasing me, that was his answer and for the moment, that was all I was going to get.

There would be time for interrogations later, but for now, we did need to go.

As we headed for the harbor, we didn't check a map and we didn't check that we were keeping pace with each other. We didn't doubt each other.

When we made it to the slip, the boats warning horn signaled they were about to depart. We rushed on board at the last second, then quickly and stealthily made our way into the bunk room to find Mr. Solomon sitting on the bunks to the left in plain sight.

"You're late, Ms. Morgan," he said with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. I knew this conversation, it seemed we were having it again.

"But I'm alone."

"No, you're not."

"I know, Mr. Solomon."

"Zachary." He said, staring at him with a new expression, one I couldn't read. It didn't look very nice.

"Joe." He replies the same way but with a different face. He looked remorseful and at the same time very nervous. I smiled a bit and though I can read him like a book, he's a page-turner. **(Does anyone know where that quote is from?)**

We stayed in silence for a while. I sat on my bunk on the bottom right. I let the boys have their staring contest, do what they will, and for the most part, just left them alone.

I used the time I had to sleep before we reached Benghazi, and just as I slipped into a deeper sleep, I heard a hushed conversation and then the lights click off. Then I felt a familiar and strong set of arms wrap around me and For the first time in a while, I felt safe.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey everyone! I'm back with another chapter! Thanks for the well wishes, but I'm going to be fine, just a little scare. They thought I was going to need a blood transfusion which was not fun, but with a bit of medicine, I was fine. So anyway thanks for reading and enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 16**

**Cammie's POV**

_ I used the time I had to sleep before we reached Benghazi, and just as I slipped into a deeper sleep, I heard a hushed conversation and then the lights click off. Then I felt a familiar and strong set of arms wrap around me and For the first time in a while, I felt safe._

When I woke up the next morning, the boats arrival horn was blown, alerting the dock crew. I sat up, but arms were still tight on my waist. After quickly squeezing out, I made my way through the pitch dark, since we have no windows in our lovely room, and decided it was time to wake everyone up.

I flicked the lights on, getting a frustrated groan from a groggy Zach and hearing Mr. Solomon reach for his gun and cock it, pointing it at me.I rolled my eyes at him and then smiled. He hadn't gotten a good nights rest in a while he'd been too busy worrying about me.

The two of then rolled out of bed and Mr. Solomon tossed Zach a fresh t-shirt.

"Ms. Morgan, get ready for today's exercise."

"Nope." I sat crosslegged on the bottom left side bunk and crossed my arms. "We aren't going anywhere until I get some answers. I don't care if I miss this opportunity for some more practice entirely."

"Gallaghe-" Zach started, and I immediately cut him off.

"That's Cammie, Zachary, now speak." I ordered. They could both tell I was not in the mood for games. The look in my eyes said enough, but Zach still looked to Mr. Solomon and shrugged.

"So let me get this straight," I said reading the expressions shared between the two of them, "Mr. Solomon, you told Zach to follow us as extra protection, and he's been following us since we left." I was looking directly at Mr. Solomon. At that point I had stood up and was starring him down. With a huff he sat down on the bottom bunk with Zach and admitted it.

"Yes, Ms. Morgan, he has been there the entire time."

"And you!" I yelled in Zach's face, my finger pointed accusingly less than an inch from his face. "You were there in Marseille, in the building with my dad's safe house. That was you talking to me, it was you who tackled me!"

"You did what?!" Mr. Solomon yelled looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, Shut up, Solomon!" I yelled, "If anyone shouldn't be happy right now, its me! He could be reporting back to my mother!"

"I'm not." Zach threw his hands up in mock surrender and jammed his finger on the underside of the top bunk."Ow..."

I rolled my eyes.

"He's not, Ms. Morgan," he assured me, "I am."

"WHAT?!" Zach and I both yelled.

"I've been leaving dead letter drops for contacts who send the notes to her from Geneva. So you have nothing to worry about, she has no idea where we are, but she deserved to know you weren't dead."

"I've been with you both the whole time, I most definitely am not going to die and its not like I'm untrained!"

"You aren't trained enough!" he argued.

I stormed toward the door, but before I could make it they both shoved it closed. I scowled.

"I nave trained for nearly five years." I said, getting in Mr. Solomon's face again.

"You aren't ready to be on your own."

"Let me guess, I never will be!" I was angry, I could feel my face and my ears turning red.

"No one ever will be! Your father never was, and now he's gone!" He grabbed me by the shoulders, pushing my back against the wall, forcing me to listen to him with no escape, "I am not about to let my best friend's daughter disappear the same way he did!"

"That..." I wanted to fire back but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I said, "That's what you were going say in Marseille, isn't it."

"Yes." he sighed.

I huffed and three my arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Solomon. I'm so sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for, kiddo?" he asked, returning the embrace.

"I don't know," I laughed a bit.

"Let's skip the exercise here." He smiled, "We'll still give you a shot to do everything on your own in Cairo."

"Okay." so I sat back down on the bottom right bunk and let myself drift off once more. I stopped thinking about how I was worrying everyone else, because they didn't have as much to worry about as I thought.

I heard Mr. Solomon above me settling back into his bunk and felt the dip in the mattress where Zach was sitting.

I rolled over so I was facing him and yanked lightly on his t-shirt.

"We have a lot to discuss." I told him.

He laid down, but he didn't bother with respectable distances this time. Even with the light clicked off, I knew he was barely inches from me. His forehead was soon touching my own, and I said, "What about your thing with Bex?"

"It was barely a thing, we were both hurt you had left us and worried sick, and we just took a week long undercover mission as boyfriend and girlfriend seriously enough and we actually kind of liked being together. Cammie, I never meant to hurt you. I was just losing my mind searching for you, thats actually why we were in Greece. I left the Baxters for a while when I was searching."

"Did you find me?"

"No, and I will never forgive myself for that."

"I feel crazy, Zach."

"You are not crazy."

"I remember these horrible things in my dreams and suddenly, my body knows how to do things that I never learned how to do. I have this feeling that I've done and seen things that I can't even imagine. I don't know what to do."

My eyes stung, my ears burned, my cheeks were wet, and no matter how mad I was at him, my lips ached for Zach's.

"Cam," he said putting his arms around me, hugging me firmly and very closely, he kissed my forehead, "When I was by myself looking for you, I couldn't find you, so I started looking for my mother instead." I could hear how upset he was.

I ran my hand up into his hair, pulling him as close as I could and hushed him gently, as if he were a newborn.

"Its okay." I said for probably the millionth time, I'd never bothered to count.

"No, it isn't." he knocked my hand away and both of his held my tear soaked cheeks, "I couldn't find you, and I will never forgive myself for that."

"Where did you go when you went looking for me?"

"Crazy." he said, but it was more of an exhale than a word, "I went crazy."

I felt the tears falling harder this time, "Are you afraid of me, Zach?"

"No," he smiled and kissed me, "I could never be afraid of you." He moved from my lips to my cheek to my temple and when he finally reached my forehead, he let it linger, before he wiped my final few tears away and pulled my head against his chest.

"I am." I felt my hands tremble and my voice shake, but then Zach was holding them, and he was kissing me again.

"I don't scare easy, Gallagher Girl. I'll protect you, if you want me to."

He was whispering against my forehead, but I heard him clear as day. I nodded slightly, and he pulled me closer, if that was even possible, and for the first time in a while, I didn't insist on being called Cammie, because now that I knew that nickname, his smile, and most importantly him were all mine, I was happy. Call me selfish, but there are some things in this world you get to be selfish with, and you almost have to be.

He had a name and a look just for me, and I was all for him, no matter how many nice boutique cashiers I flirted with.

"My dad is missing." I told him.

"Don't worry," he said, but then he promised, "We'll find him, and we'll bring him home. I won't fail him like I did you."

He put his lips against mine again, and with a final kiss I drifted off.

"I love you, Cam."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi everyone! I'm back with another chapter! I have gotten so many wonderful reviews, visitors, and views on my story, and I'm so glad you all liked it! No one has replied to whether or not they want chapter 12 reuploaded with a translation, so let me know if any of you do, I'd be happy to do so. Anyway, thank you for reading and enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 17**

**Cammie's POV**

_"My dad is missing." I told him._

_"Don't worry," he said, but then he promised, "We'll find him, and we'll bring him home. I won't fail him like I did you."_

_He put his lips against mine again, and with a final kiss I drifted off._

_"I love you, Cam."_

When I woke the next morning, I was alone. Zach and Mr. Solomon were nowhere in sight, but a note was stuck to the wall by my head.

It read:

_Ms. Morgan,_

_Your objective is simple, you will find _

_Mr. Goode somewhere inside the Qasr Annil Hotel. _

_The two of you will return to this __room by midnight,_

_ or you will the boat. Come by your lonesomes and do not be _

_late, Cinderella, or your Prince may become a pumpkin._

_Good Luck, Chameleon!_

I dressed simply and quickly in something forgettable. Something I could easily change in and out of or layer over.

I made my way in and out of a hospital, through a closing Bazaar, out the back entrance of a library, and spent a time attempting to flee a bank via the bathroom window. I trudged down dusty back streets and alleys. I went with and against the dwindling flow of people in the streets, and hid inside a hotel for a while. It had not been the one I was looking for, but it was close by.

Assuming my pursuers did not know my final destination, I bought a room for the night on the highest floor and slipped out, tail free, climbing down the balconies into the black. I slipped stealthily down more back streets, sprinted across a park, and found the Qasr Annil's back door.

A small restaurant stood in the right side of the lobby, a small unattended desk stood to the left. A boy in an old man's dress was alone at the far end of the bar. I paused, straightening myself, clothes, hair, and headscarf, then proceed toward the boy.

I sat a seat away and began a conversation in Farsi.

"Hello, sir" I started, "How are you tonight?"

"My apologies, Madame, but I do not understand," he replied in English with a heavy cockney accent, "Do you speak English, Madame?"

"Yes, sir" I replied, "I'm glad we have a language in common."

"I am as well."

"Call me Amara." I extended a hand for a handshake.

He took my hand with a smile and replied, "I am Andrew."

"Lovely to meet you, Andrew."

"And you, Amara," he leaned to the side against the bar to look around me and then continued, "I believe we have somewhere to be."

"Yes, we do." I agreed, turning my own head to look at the old wooden grandfather clock that sat alone by the door atop an old and expensive looking Persian rug, just as the clock stuck 11.

With a final sip of his drink he stood beside my chair and offered me his arm, "Shall we?"

"We shall." I smiled, taking his arm.

With that we disappeared into the night, weaving down back streets, taking turns looking over our shoulders. We'd acquired thee new pieces to add to our makeshift disguise closet, and arrived just in time for the ships last call.

We arrived to our bunk room as the clock struck twelve, we would not have been a second late, but I hesitated to open the door, and made us late.

When I reached for the handle, Zach's hand grabbed my own, and in a split second I was pinned, between the metal wall and his toned muscle wall of abs. How could anyone believe his disguise.

"How'd you know it was me, Gallagher Girl?" He smirked. This time I let the nickname go, which made his smirk somehow become more intense, more confident, if that was even possible.

"Your eyes," I smiled, "You may be wearing contacts, but I knew by the fire of impatience in your eyes that is was you."

"Did you just call me impatient?" he feigned offense, "Because that hurts, _Amara_." he teased, tickling my sides, making me laugh until I was nearly out of breath and my stomach started to ache.

When he finally stopped, I huffed as I corrected myself, saying, "Maybe it wasn't your eyes, _Andrew_," teasing him right back, but I lost the tone as soon as the threat of his tickling antics was brought up again.

"Then again," I said, "Maybe it was the smirk, or the attitude, or the disguise itself? You used the same one in Boston. Is it your only one?"

"Maybe I was betting on you picking me out in this get up." He leaned closer to me, our lips now only a few inches apart.

"Maybe I'm glad you did."

"I'm glad you're glad." he said and then suddenly closed the distance between us, smirking into my lips as we kissed.

Soon his wig had fallen off, my headscarf and one of my two big and colorful skirts lay on the ground with it and his blazer. Then, almost out of nowhere, our session was cut short when the door behind Zach, into the bunk room, was opened and we jumped apart.

"Good, you're both here, now get in here!" Mr. Solomon demanded.

Zach held his hands up in both the universal gesture of 'I didn't do anything' but also mock surrender with a sheepish smile on his slightly swollen lips, and I just looked at him with a smirk of my own and a hot blush rushing through my cheeks and into the tips of my ears. He looked almost exactly like my Zach again, but I wish he would take out those annoying brown contacts, I want to get lost in the forest of his green eyes once again. The color he wore now bore too much of a resemblance to the Hudson, and a bad memory of nearly falling in while on a trip with my father came to mind. I could have sworn someone else had been there too, but Mom was in Bolivia at that time and Abby was protecting a President. Maybe Mr. Solomon had been there with us, I would have to remember to ask him later.

"What's wrong, Gallagher Girl? Can't get enough of the sight of me?" Zach smirked, shamelessly flirting and posing against the wall. His voice had shaken me out of the depths of my mind where I had retreated for just a second to search for the memory of the Hudson and who may or may not have been there, what we'd done, where we'd gone, and who we'd seen.

With a small giggle I smacked his arm and he rubbed a hand quickly over his arm before moving that hand over his chest like he was offended, which only made me laugh harder.

"Come on, doofus, let's go inside," I said with a little grin and left him in the hall to pick up what remained of our disguises, and he took the chance to genuinely laugh for the first time in what felt like an eternity, or at least a very long time, like before I even disappeared. I was glad that we were here, sort of back together, enough so that I could be here to do this stuff with him and see him like this.

I was glad that I was getting to know him like Mr. Solomon knew him, as a well trained operative and important ally, doing his best work in the field.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi everyone! I know its been a while but I've been dealing with some issues and I have a new story out about Ally Carter's Embassy Row series! If you like Embassy Row please take a look! OR write some Embassy Row fics because last I checked there were only 23 and I don't think Heist Society is doing to hot either which is really sad! Please get involved where you can guys! Reading or writing, one encourages the other. I would really love to see some more fics because I have officially run out. (Sadness...) Anyway, if you are reading my story here, thanks so much and I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Chapter 18 **

**Cammie's POV**

Before I knew it, we arrived in Tel Aviv. My first step was going to be finding Dad's retire Mossad contact, Samael Lauder Poschkitstein.

I remembered a story dad had told me years ago when I thought about it. He'd said, "When I go to Israel, I always make an effort to go to Tel Aviv. There I use a dead letter drop, that's older than you by the way, to contact a friend."

I remembered begging him to tell me how to dead drop a letter, and eventually, when I was eight, he caved.

He said, "First, find a place the letter will be safe and unnoticed. Do not use a trash can, unless you want to have an uncomfortable conversation about why you're rummaging around in the trash. Also be careful of how serious that country trakes litering."

We both vividly remembered a story including a dead letter drop in Dubai and an uncomfortable near arrest. I was funny now, but in the moment it was definitely not so funny. Mom was worried sick when the US consulate called her and told her the police tried to arrest Dad.

"Make sure no one is watching," he'd continued, "Never leave anything classified or harmful to the mission objective in the letter dro. And most importantly, never sign your name."

I took everything I had learned from him under carful consideration and went to work on preparing today's letter for the dead drop. I wrote:

_SLAP, _

_Guess who is in town? _

_(Its not me by the way)_

_Usual hangout?_

_Usual time?_

_Good. _

_See you there, _

_MAM_

Perfect. We left the letters in Dad's old dead drop. It was simialr to the one Josh and I had used in Roseville. Tomorrow we would be meeting just before the mid day prayers at a mosque eight streets south of here.

Another thing that Dad had taught me, was how to leave more information, but only for the intended reader. The number of lines told the intended reader how many streets over or up and down they needed to move to find the right house of worship. The initials at the top and bottom told the intended reader what direction they were mooving in. The initals with less letters was the one to chose, and like looking to a compass on a map were written down like North South East and West. North and South were used the most, because it left the letter a bit less conspicuous. If we did need to indicate west or east, we could always write in a language that is read right to left, up and down rows. It was a great system.

We didn't wait for a reply. Meets like this, you showed and if the other party was more than 15 minutes late, you bailed and not just out of the meeting, sometimes out of the country if a spy is really paranoid. I'm really paranoid. I hope I don't have to leave the country. I have too much work to do.

When we arrived to the mosque, I was wrapped in a head scarf, and Zach and Mr. Solomon wore proper attire as well.(Forgive my inability to name these items. I'm also nervous to try naming them and saying the wrong ones.)

We waited. No one showed. We headed back to the hotel room we had been renting across the street from another one of Dad's old safe houses. When we turned the lights on, an elderly man was slumped over, fast asleep on our couch. I recognized him from the single time I'd met him. At Dad's funeral.

"Samael?" I shook him worriedly. Was he sick? Was he injured? Dead? No one had answers so my mind created its own, but it also created quite a bit of panic.

"Who goes there?" He tried to sound intimidating. He reached under his head for the gun that wasn't there and yelled, "What are you doing in my house?"

"Samael? Do you remember me? Or Mr. Solomon? It's Cammie, Matthew's daughter."

"You can't be, Cammie is 12."

"Mr. Poschkitstein, I assure you, this is Matthew's daughter. Matthew disappeared after he spoke to you years ago. Do you remember what you talked about?"

He obviously had a little something to drink. I could smell it on his breath and in his clothes. He smelled like a brewery.

"The Circle of Cavan, he was searching for the origins."

"Yes we know that, but do you know what he was going to Greece for? Why was he going to Athens?"

"He was running." Samael told us, with that he finally looked up and when he saw Zach's face, he reached a shaky hand up, pointing toward Zach's eyes. "He feared the woman of emerald and fire. That was all he told me."

"Yes, but did you tell him anything?"

"I do not remember." he said.

"It was only a few years ago!" I insisted.

"Cammie, a few years is more than an eternity in the spy world." I glared at him, "Hey, Gallagher Girl, your words not mine."

I had to agree with him, however reluctantly. Maybe by tomorrow, when Samael was sober we could have a real conversation.


End file.
